every bit of energy
by AkaOkamiRyu
Summary: "Every bit of energy inside of us, every particle, will go on to be something else." Lives that Jemma Simmons & Leo Fitz could have lived, in other universes and other times. (Series of one-shot AU stories including Camp Half-Blood, CSI, mutants and more).
1. CSI's

Every Bit of Energy

* * *

Jemma Simmons loves her job but she hates these kinds of cases: the ones with little kids and formerly happy families, the ones that cause the normally mild mannered CSI Coulson to snap impatiently for evidence and leave even stoic CSI May to look stretched thin. These are the cases that simultaneously make her wish she was in the field, doing more to help, yet glad that she remains in the lab, processing trace and DNA and not dealing with grieving families. Neither wish will get her anywhere at the moment though, so she concentrates on what she does best.

She's in the middle of running an important trace sample through the mass spectrometer when, as it's want to do, all hell breaks loose. The machine makes a noise that sounds like scraping, Jemma makes a noise that sounds like defeat, and then the little warning beep fills her lab. Huffing a sigh, she sets down the previous results she'd been examining and taps on the windowed wall to the next lab over.

Leo Fitz, resident ballistics and explosives expert, and her very best friend since college, looks up at the unexpected rapping, face full of concentration. His brow lifts in question but the confusion clears immediately when Jemma nods to the blinking light on her favorite machine. Without hesitation he abandons the weapon he's been analyzing and makes his way over, grabbing a tool kit as he goes.

"Acting up again?"

"Yes, same sound as before." She really just needs the silly machine to hold on another day. The transit record on the replacement part tells her it's en route for drop off, but they don't have time to wait. "Can you get it working long enough for me to analyze that debris from the ransom note?"

"Of course," he gives her his usual half-smirking grin and gets to work, gingerly removing the sample inside and passing it off so he doesn't disturb whatever it is. (He feels a bit better knowing that its non-organic and thus comfortingly not body bits though he would never tell Jemma. She knows anyway, or she'd have taken it out before pestering him.)

Momentarily at a standstill on the case, Jemma allows herself a long moment to appreciate and admire him as he works, single-mindedly focused on the task. She enjoys the quick, easy way his fingers move through the internal workings of the machine, as naturally as they slip over bullet fragments, shrapnel or a bottle of beer after a hard case. It's not two minutes before he's popping panels back in place and pronouncing the machine 'fit enough to get through 'til tomorrow' before giving her another smile, a 'good luck' and then making his way back to pour over bullet striations and potential murder weapons.

An hour later, when one of her results provides Coulson with the link he needs to find the kidnapper and save the missing child, she pops over to his workstation, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and startling him from his ballistics report.

"I take it you just helped save the day?" He asks, looking up as he finishes signing off on his own positive id to see her beaming smile.

"All thanks to you and your magic hands," she positively bubbles, before a slight flush settles against her cheekbones. But she's Jemma Simmons, she exudes joy even though they work often surrounded by its opposite, and she recovers quickly. "Thanks for the fix Fitz."

"Anytime Simmons," he responds, grinning mischievously. "These magic hands could use a bottle of beer between them. Up for a celebratory drink?"

Her laughter chases away the ghosts of death and sadness, heralds in the joy of victory and justice as it always does, and reminds him how he keeps doing this job (for the victims, for their families, for closure but mostly, for her). She doesn't even answer, just heads for the locker room to deposit her lab coat and grab her bag, knowing he'll follow.

* * *

Notes:

This is the first au I wrote for this pair but I've got several more than just need to be polished up a bit. I really enjoy imagining them in similar themed jobs, still working on some sort of team. Obviously I don't own AoS or CSI, but the ideas here.

Always glad to accept ideas for other au themes and very much appreciate all your support in the form of comments & suggestions. If you've got any feedback to make these better, that would also be wonderful.

Thanks for reading!

A.O.R.


	2. The Night Before (Life Goes On)

_"Sittin' up on the roof, sneaking a smoke by the chimney, checkin' out the moon in the city lights Takes off his flannel shirt and he drapes it around her shoulders, slides up behind her and holds on tight And she says 'I don't want this night to end, why does it have to end?'" Carrie Underwood, the Night Before [Life Goes On]_

* * *

It's unusually chilly for late August, the light wind only highlighting the cool air. The stars are faint in a velvety sky, their brilliance dulled by the glow of streetlights, buildings and the unending traffic of Glasglow. The moon though, it refuses to pale in the wake of manmade imitations: silvery light soft upon her features, not unlike his gaze as he watches her settle on the shingles, knees pressed to her chest, bound by her arms.

God, she's the most beautiful thing he's seen in his whole life. Not that that's necessarily saying much. He's grown up in this grubby little patch of the city, where every man's knuckles are scratched over and their nail beds filled with evidence of a long, hard day's work. Really, he's more fortunate than most of them: oldest of three, son of a business-owning mechanic. Sure, he'll work hard as any of them the rest of his days, but at least he'll have the business to his name. It's more than most folks here will ever have.

But it's so much less than he wants. He wants her, with her caramel curls and bright hazel eyes, blazing curiosity. Jemma Simmons, with her polite Sheffield accent and her soft, dainty fingers, and her big dreams of becoming a doctor. Jemma Simmons, with a smile that warms even the fiercest Scottish winter night, a kindness that leaves even his sweet mother astounded. Daring enough to earn even his father's respect and patient enough to see some value in a quiet, brooding boy in the back of the classroom the very first day her family had moved here from England. He wants her, and nothing else, for the rest of his days but he'll never deserve her.

He sighs, heavily, tears his gaze from her long enough to pull a pack of smokes from his pocket and light one, to her immediate displease.

"Leo, you promised," she wheedles, looking up to him with a smile that in no way diminishes her tone of disapproval.

He manages one puff before he drops it, crushes the offending object beneath his worn old trainers. "Sorry Jem, it's just got me all in knots, thinkin' about tomorrow."

She shivers then, whether at the breeze dancing around them or the thought of the morning, he doesn't know. But he tugs off his worn old button down and covers her with it before nestling in behind her, arms snug about her waist. Her reply comes a moment later, as his chin takes its place on her shoulder.

"The only thing that needs to change is that we'll see each other less Leo," she reaffirms, same as she's done almost daily for months, ever since the letter came from Cambridge. "I'm not about to go off to Uni and just forget you, I love you."

"I love you too lass," Leo begins, gnawing at the thoughts that have eaten at his insides far too long now. "But you're off on a grand adventure, to make somethin' of yourself and I'm just going to be here, working with dad at the shop. Same as I've been doing every day after school for years."

He gets to the heart of it as he's never managed before. But she already knows: of course she does. They've been best friends (and then more) since the day she showed up in his maths class more than three years ago. She knows him, even the secrets he buries away.

"Leopold Alastair Fitz, don't you even begin to imply that you are not good enough for me," she half turns in his embrace, her gaze fierce. "You are thoughtful and gentle and brilliant: you are everything I want." She only wishes he could see it. If his family could afford it, she knows he could go to university with her, do amazing things. She tells him all the time.

There's a smile on his face, soft as spun silk, even as he heaves another sigh. How someone so sweet and kind can turn so stern so quickly is a paradox to him. He's joked before (and would do it again, but it's not the time) that of the pair of them, it's she who is most lion like. "I know, I know, I'm just gonna miss you is all. And I don't want you to give up anything in life just for me," because that's what love is, wanting everything for that person, even at your own expense. And God, but does he love her.

"I'm not," she reassures him quietly, snuggling more tightly into his embrace before giving a sigh of her own. "I just wish we could stay up here forever, you and me with nothing changing."

He'd like that too, but even he knows that can't happen. There's more out there for her than an old rooftop in the harder parts of Glasglow. And he hopes, more than anything in the world, that whatever that more is will include him, will do anything he needs to to ensure it does, but he also knows that if it can't, he'll let her go on without him.

* * *

This isn't too far out for an AU I think. It's not a crossover of any sort, one of the few in my small stack of AU prompts. Here they're just regular people in the regular world. Inspired by Carrie Underwood's song Night Before (Life Goes On) which was on her very first album and is still my very favorite of hers.

Obviously I don't own AoS or the song. If you have any suggestions or ideas, please let me know!


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